


Lips and Eyes and Whisky

by notparticularly



Series: The Flight of The Sun [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, I'm Sorry, actually no I'm not, this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notparticularly/pseuds/notparticularly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her eyes are the colour of sunlight through whisky.<br/>Prompt was for Mal/Zoe, one sided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips and Eyes and Whisky

Her eyes are the colour of sunlight through whisky.

Not that he’s ever tried whisky, of course. Seen it, he has, clasped in the hands of those rich types who never let anything go. On their lips and on their tongues and down their throats and warming the cockles of their heart, to use one of his mother’s sayings. People like that, they always seem to get the whisky, while folks just trying to scrape a living have no choice but to swallow their own engine-brewed moonshine.

He first noticed it on the battlefield. By far the best time for noticing things, ask anyone. Time slows and you catch the longest glimpses of stuff you’d never normally see. Like her eyes sparkling as she dives for cover.

Makes you feel alive.

The battlefield. It does! Makes you appreciate every little vein going push push push through your body, every huff and puff and heave in your dust-filled lungs. People always look so alive. So full of light, knowing the power can go out at any time.

Perhaps her lips would taste like what he imagines whisky does.

He shouldn’t be thinking that, shouldn’t ever reduce her to that. She’s more than lips and eyes and whisky. More than him. Didn’t lose as much, you see. Of course, it all depends on how you define loss. Her family’s dead, same as his. But she was born vesselside, never had a ranch to lose or fields to miss. She’s at home on this ship.

Come to think of it, so is he.

Ship like this, be with you till the day you die. Salesman wasn’t talking about Serenity though, not a chance. But it didn’t matter, the words will ring true. You’ll see. Just need to get us a mechanic, a pilot, and somewhere to fly to.

He wonders if she wonders, about what could have happened if they had become more than the friends they were, about how wonderful they could have been.

Not that they’re not wonderful now, of course. They’re a team, loyal and true. The best.

Besides, he sees her talking to that new pilot, and it don’t look like she thinks there’s something wrong about him, no matter what she says. Perhaps it’s for the best. She’s never laughed with him like she laughs with the pilot, all free and careless and somehow innocent, despite all she’s been through. He don’t understand it, how she can let go like that. Maybe that’s why the pilot is so much better suited to her than Mal is.

She smiles so brightly when she’s with Wash, and he’s glad that she’s gotten the chance to.


End file.
